The Run
by Vivious Circle
Summary: One crazy run. Because some dangers are scarier than others.


„It's him! Run!" she didn't wait to check if her shout has any effect on her companions, breaking from calm march in one direction to mad run in the other in split second. It wasn't as if anyone needed any warning, because though most of her party members were deprived of the benefit of infravision, his horrible voice served as an ultimate sign of trouble. Voice, which didn't seem to bother with such trivial matters as acoustic, ears or nerves, going directly into bloodstream, chilling blood in veins and changing heart into a terrified block of ice. Voice, which thrilled the very soul, making it seriously consider a career of a wandering ghost, as long as it guaranteed leaving the endangered body as far away as immortally possible. If Bhaalspawn knew no fear than Daria certainly wasn't one, no matter what Gorion wrote.

"Immy wait!" the elven girl screamed desperately seeing her sister disappearing far ahead, her thief's dexterity and years of practice allowing her to outrun even Minsc.

"Sorry sis! Iron Throne and all this mess is one thing, but this is too much! I'm going back to Candlekeep!" Imoen didn't turn back even for a moment, sprinting north as fast as her legs let her. If not for Daria's keen sense of hearing she wouldn't be able to distinguish the words, but hearing them didn't make her feel any better.

"No! Wait! Listen! Tiax will serve you! Tiax doesn't need to be the master of the whole world. He'll be happy to serve you! No! Please! No…!" The horrible sounds that went after made certain that the insane gnome was beyond any help. He was the first to be caught, with his short legs not fast enough to catch up with the rest of the party.

"Please, spare me! I'll make it worth for you! I can… kyaaah!" Safana's delicate voice wasn't that sensual when backed up with high-pitched panic and breath lost in the run. As the most fragile of Daria's companion's she was the second to go down on the long run. Daria tried to speed up hearing Safana's final scream. She knew she was the third.

To her right Dynaheir suddenly got tangled in her long robes with thousands of sparkling and totally unfashionable Rashemi amulets. The sun elf quickly thanked all the Seldarine that she kept her mage's robes straight and comfortable, cut enough to enable running and not enough to get tangled in themselves. If she'd be lucky Dynaheir would buy her enough time to build up some distance. If she could only reach Nashkel, where people were, where the stones lied…

"We failed our witch Boo, but revenge can wait! About fifty years I think." Minsc didn't stop at Dynaheir's fall. His armor was clinking at every move he made, cutting through the forest. Only few steps behind him run Xan, tearing his purple robes at low bushes and trees. Daria already couldn't catch a breath, but the intense feeling of fear kept her from slowing down. She was the last now. Slowing would be the last thing she'd ever do.

Two narrow canyons opened before her – a sound of Minsc's clinking armor came from one of them, but Daria's feet chose the other, following a purple-robed shape, before her head managed to come to a decision. Xan was well ahead already and soon disappeared behind a bend on their route.

"This canyon doesn't have an exit! What do we do now Boo?" A loud shout Rashemi berserker used as his tone of voice made the stone walls on Daria's both sides rumble, echoing even further. "…Boo? Boo, where are you? Boo?!"

Daria unsuccessfully tried to muffle the rest of the shout. She was still alive and that was all that mattered at the moment. And now she had to hurry because, unlike her, he wouldn't get tired. He never got tired.

She took the last bend on the road on full speed, almost ending on opposite stone wall, but she couldn't care less. All that mattered was that she could already see the sturdy building of temple of Helm, the little shop, where they used to winter wolves' pelts, the Nashkel Inn… and a fast current of the river, cutting her off from the promise of salvation.

A purple patch was floating on the water surface, halfway to the opposite shore, a purple patch that turned out to be Xan, catching his balance standing on the water. His shoes were glittering with faint blue light of an enchantment enabling him walking through the river's surface, a spell Daria forgot to prepare for today.

"Xaaaaan! Heeeeelp!" she screamed with desperation.

The enchanter turned around and saw her, standing on the river bank frightened, helpless. Hesitation was obvious in his stance, but only a short moment it took him to resume his wobbly walk to Nashkel.

"Y-you coward! You always h-hide from your emotions, f-from what you truly feel! Don't leave me!!" she screamed as loudly as she could, breaking into frantic sobs.

Xan turned again. His face was covered with tears. But then his eyes stopped at some point behind her back, his expression turning into mask of pure terror. And he turned back immediately breaking into unstable run, pressing hands to his pointy ears with all his strength.

She turned around as well, slowly, her eyes trying to reach what was not yet in her point of view. She didn't need her divinations to foresee the coming end.

And suddenly she couldn't turn anymore, standing eye-to-eye with him. She screamed.

"Tell me have you ever been in Athkatla. I heard streets there are made of gold. Are you a cleric? Why do you need all this papers? You're not going to throw stones at me, are you? I killed a wild rabbit!..."

…


End file.
